Roll up, roll up, footy circus is still in town

Richard Hinds

I GOT an email from a reader this week. He wanted to let me know he read my columns to laugh at the appalling standard of the writing, the awful attempts at humour and obvious lack of insight. So appalled was he by these scribblings, I got the impression he would rather put his hand in an Insinkerator for two minutes than spend that time absorbing more lame similes (like that one). Yet he did so anyway.

I should have been upset. Not about the substance of the email, that the truth had spread beyond my immediate family.

Instead, I took it like a C-list celebrity. After all, this was the closest I would get to being a reality TV star without breast augmentation. Because, in our fame-obsessed culture, it is not what people think about you, merely that they are thinking about you.

Australian sport has developed this craving for constant exposure. Not merely for the games, the major competitive or administrative happenings, or the stories of the participants. Seasonal boundaries have been obliterated. Oscar Wilde is head of corporate communications. Our sports must be spoken about constantly.

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One organisation, more than any other, has perfected the art of being noticed. Even by mentioning them - OK, it's the AFL - you fall into their trap. The mere use of the acronym is another tick on the chart for the agencies who rigorously monitor the competition's media references, and set their sponsorship rates accordingly.

Thursday night's AFL draft is the apogee of the AFL's incredible ability to turn relatively mundane events into headline-grabbing circuses. Even an hour after one of the most eventful days of Test cricket since Ian Botham turned Australia inside-out at Headingley.

Stripped to its bones, the AFL draft is the nomination of a group of mostly teenage prospects who will, in the case of the top 20 or so - or might, for all the others - play a significant role for their new clubs in a few years. Yet, the prognostications of the po-faced experts - many of them on the AFL payroll - are taken to ridiculous extremes. Particularly in the way untested youths are cast as the ''next Adam Goodes'' or the ''next Scott Pendlebury''.

Can you imagine, on election night, Graham Richardson describing the new member for Eden-Monaro as ''the next Paul Keating'' or ''the next John Howard''. Yet, so expertly has the AFL sold its production that reason gives way to romanticism, and the league, clubs and media indulge in a mutually satisfying orgy of televised introspection.

The draft, at least, has a significant impact on the competition. The AFL's true genius is in how it has elevated even more mundane ''events'' into supposedly legitimate news stories. Clubs routinely notify the media in November that their pre-season training has commenced. Camera crews descend to report, breathlessly, that indeed it has.

Then there is the cunningly timed release of news intended to trump other sports. The NRL remains convinced that the AFL deliberately announced No. 2 Gillon McLachlan had turned down the chief executive's role on Dally M Medal night. Although, given the embarrassingly shambolic Dally M production, being overshadowed by McLachlan's rejection was not the worse thing that could have happened.

Legitimate news story, or incidental waffle, the AFL wants to dominate the news cycle. The fiascos involving Melbourne's alleged tanking and Adelaide's inept attempts to disguise payments to Kurt Tippett might embarrass the clubs. But, at AFL headquarters, a communications expert is chuckling over back pages covered with stories about his game, rather than Ricky Ponting's struggles.

The NRL is headed down the same path. The appointment of a chief executive and the ban of the shoulder charge are important stories worthy of their wide off-season exposure. But the league and the clubs are working harder to manufacture headlines at a time when the game was once taking a few deep breaths. Certainly, the hungry beasts of the media participate in the process. But they are being indulged with more photo opportunities and announcements that could surely wait, at least until the South Africans have cleared Customs.

Last season, the AFL suffered a dip in attendances. Most likely, the consequence of televising games live against the gate, and putting back the starting time of Saturday night games to the family unfriendly 7.40pm. But you wonder if a day will come when the golden goose is exhausted. When, at least in summer, too much football is indeed too much.

More likely, they have created a 365-day addiction. And the latest pictures from November training are media morphine.